


Another Day to Find You

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, Childhood Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Shiro takes a Life Drawing class for his final Fine Arts credit at Altea University.  There, he runs into his high school friend and old crush, Keith.  Shiro thinks this is a chance to reconnect.But Keith isn't there to take the class.  He's there to be the model.Based onthis prompt. (Caution: Autoplay)





	Another Day to Find You

Shiro tapped his pen against his sketchpad and stared at the platform ahead of him.  Around him, students milled and grouped together, many of them calling out to each other and waving.  There were a few others like Shiro, keeping to themselves and finding seats, but it seemed like this was a class favored by one or two particular majors.

Not surprising.  ‘Life Drawing’ wouldn’t have been Shiro’s first choice either.  He’d wanted to go with an art history class that might actually work with his minor, but it was only at the same time as classes he actually needed.  The beginning theater classes might have been better, if only because Shiro was good on his feet and usually did well with public speaking, but it had required too much effort.  He didn’t want to be called on to play improv games at 9 AM, thanks so much.

This had worked out, and Shiro had thought the rubric and description sounded decent.  He really just needed one more art-related credit hour, and this class was almost completely graded on personal improvement and projects.

Even so, it was only Thursday of the first week back.  The rubric day had been the usual boring nonsense, especially with so many students joining and leaving.  Today was the first ‘real’ day of class. If he absolutely hated it, he could swap out and choose something else that matched his time slot.  

Shiro wanted to think he was an adult about this.  There was no reason why he shouldn’t be able to do a participation based class.

But he couldn’t look at that platform without remembering that someone was about to be naked on it.  And Shiro was going to have to stare at them. Intently. To look for details.

There were guys Shiro knew that would kill to get to ogle someone and call it a class.  Some of them were in his fraternity, though he did his best to guide them away from that behavior.  But Shiro wasn’t one of those people. It was only awkward for him. What if he stared someplace he wasn’t supposed to?  

Shiro wasn’t sure if there were standard rules for this kind of thing that all these art majors knew but he didn’t.  What was the etiquette around drawing someone’s, uh, parts? He had no problem drawing them from a drawing or photograph, but he didn’t want to squint at someone’s bits like a weirdo.  Even if it was for a class. Even if they were getting paid.

He was being ridiculous.  Shiro was sure of that. This was a class that people graduated from every year, and the professor had glowing reviews.  Clearly this had to be fine. If there were rules, they would be explained during the class.

That didn’t make the thoughts go away.  Shiro stopped tapping with his pen, instead drumming his metal fingers against the pages.  He cast his eyes around the room, looking for something to distract himself with.

Shiro’s gaze stuck on one head in particular.  Someone who had their head down, and their phone out.  Despite the warm weather this early in fall, he was wearing an old, soft-looking red hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

All of which was very familiar.

Heart catching in his throat, Shiro stumbled out of his chair, nearly tripping over the foot of his desk.  Then he moved closer, taking the one next to the figure. He knocked on the desktop and plastered on a smile that was hopefully polite instead of awed.

The face that looked up at Shiro was very bored and very familiar.

“You need som- Shiro?” Keith’s eyes widened with recognition, and his mouth fell open.  There was a hint of color to his cheeks that could have been surprise or happiness.

He was as beautiful as he’d ever been.  Shiro’s heart picked up as he looked over the long, inky hair and the bright eyes.  “Hi, Keith. I didn’t know you went here.”

It was such a polite, mundane thing to say, but there was no way to express his utter joy at seeing Keith again.  He’d moved away in Shiro’s junior year of high school, leaving Shiro with a crush he’d never dared to speak of. They’d been so close for the two years they’d spent together - nights at each other’s house, secrets told, road trips taken.

Then, when Keith had moved, it had dried up.  Texts went unanswered, and then the line died completely.  Keith had deleted his Facebook in a fit of teenage rebellion, and as far as Shiro knew he never made another, nor any other kind of social media.

He’d just been gone, and Shiro had been left with weeks of heartache and longing.

“Yeah.  Transferred in this semester.  I- you said you wanted to go here, but I didn’t know…”  Keith stared up at Shiro like he’d risen from the dead, not ended up at the school he’d been applying to when Keith left.  “I- hi.”

“Hi,” Shiro parroted back, still staring like an idiot.  It wasn’t like he had anything better to say. What was he supposed to do, demand to know why Keith had never answered his texts from five years ago?  “How have things been?”

“Uh…”  Keith looked down at his phone, probably checking the time.  Two more minutes till class started. “Rough, actually. It’s been up and down.  You?”

Shiro gave a thin smile, both because he understood and because he didn’t know what to say in response.  “Yeah. I get that. Me too.” He held up his right hand and gave an awkward little wave.

Eyes snapping to it, Keith’s eyes widened.  “Holy shit. How- are you okay?”

“Yeah.  This was a couple of years ago.”  Shiro stuffed the hand back into his pocket, where no one could see.  More than two years after the amputation, he was more used to it, but he didn’t enjoy the looks he always got.  

Besides, a childish, sulky part of Shiro that had never aged out of high school wanted Keith looking at his face, not at his right hand.  He wanted Keith’s attention on himself and who he was, rather than thinking about the prosthesis.

Then again, if Keith was looking at his face, he’d see the scar and still wonder the same thing.

“Man.  I’m so sorry.”  Keith’s eyes dragged up to meet Shiro’s, no doubt taking in the rest of his clothes in the process.

If Shiro had known he’d be meeting his high school best friend and crush for the first time in years, he would have picked a better outfit.  Something better than the ratty old Superman shirt and a pair of ripped jeans that had fit more comfortably immediately after the accident. That had been when he went to the gym out of PT necessity and not his own inclinations.

Shiro shrugged one shoulder and gave an easy looking smile.  “It is what it is. Nothing to be sorry for.”

Keith’s lips pulled down like he disagreed, but he didn’t argue.  

The silence hung, awkward and heavy, for several seconds.  Then Shiro cleared his throat. “I don’t remember you being really into art.  You here for the credits too?”

“Oh!”  Keith’s cheeks went pink.  Shiro stared, enchanted by the color even after so many years.  “No. Actually, I’m not-”

But just then, an older man dropped a heavy messenger bag on the teacher’s desk, loud enough to make Shiro start.  “Hello, all! I see I managed not to scare everyone off, hm?”

There was an appreciative round of chuckles, mostly from the art students.  Shiro smiled too as he took a seat. There were a lot of words he would use to describe Professor Coran - loud, energetic, enthusiastic.  Orange. But scary wasn’t one of them.

“We went over all the rules on Tuesday.  For those of you who are new, just remember to be respectful.  And read over your rubrics! I hope most of you can read, but experience has taught me not to make assumptions.”  Professor Coran ran his fingers over his mustache, running his sharp blue eyes over the entire class. “For now, let’s begin our first session, shall we?  Where is our volunteer- ah! There you are.”

His eyes landed on Shiro.

Shiro’s heart picked up, and for a second he wondered if he could have signed up to be the volunteer without meaning to.  He couldn’t do it. Shiro didn’t even wear short sleeves anymore. There was no way he could be naked in front of a bunch of strangers.

Then there was movement next to him, and Shiro realized Professor Coran wasn’t looking at him.

He was looking at Keith.

Keith nodded to Coran, then stepped onto the podium at the front of the class.  With clinical, practiced movements, he pulled off that red hoodie, revealing he was bare chested below it.

He didn’t look at Shiro, which was good.  He’d only see Shiro’s wide-eyed gaping.

Around him in the rest of the stadium seating, there was the shuffle of bags and clicking of pencils, as everyone dug out their supplies.  Shiro’s fingers tightened around the blank sketchbook, nearly bending the papers.

Keith stepped out of the old sweatpants, leaving himself totally naked.

Shiro just continued to stare, only barely seeing the pale skin and dark hair.  Distantly, he realized that Keith was settling into a pose, but it didn’t really register.  Instead, Shiro felt like he was watching a movie or a dream.

There was no way this was real.  There was no way that Keith, his once closest friend and crush, was standing naked in front of him after five years apart.  Someone must have slipped something into his drink, or his DD soda if it was his turn to keep watch.

But the dream continued on without him, as Professor Coran pulled out an honest to god hour glass, then flipped it over.  “You have ten minutes for your first sketch,” he called, as if this was perfectly normal.

Because it was.  This was a class.  Life drawing classes had naked people to draw.  Shiro needed to get it together, because Keith wasn’t looking, but Coran was giving him an odd look.

Right.  Focus. Drawing.

Picking up his pencil, Shiro started to sketch out the lines of the pose.  Immediately, the lines were shaky. Even taking Keith out of the equation, Shiro had never bothered re-learning how to draw with his prosthetic hand.  He’d only ever doodled before the amputation anyway.

This was not the conditions Shiro would have picked to practice in.

Well, there was nothing for it.  Shiro forced himself to concentrate, only looking at the figure in front of him as an art reference.  He ignored the familiar face, how lovely the inky strands of hair looked in the cute, short ponytail, the scar on the hip from where they’d climbed a fence and Keith had got caught.

Just a body.  Just a conventionally attractive but otherwise uninteresting body.

Repeating that in his head, Shiro applied himself to his drawing.

***

The mantra got Shiro through the rest of the class.  There was a break halfway through, where Keith put on his sweats and took a drink, and everyone shook out their wrists.  Shiro kept his eyes on his phone and sketch pad, resisting the urge to fix up his work. Professor Coran had stressed how important it was to draw within the time frame, and cheating could be punished by point deductions.  

But while Keith was sitting and speaking with Coran, he wasn’t just a body or a piece of reference material. He was Keith, and he was shirtless, and far more filled out than Shiro remembered.  Shiro could have really used a distraction outside of mobile games.

The second half of class passed more quickly.  Coran kept them on their toes, decreasing the time to draw each time Keith switched poses.  Five minutes, two minutes, one minute, 30 seconds - the form was important, the curves and the movements, not the details.

Until finally Coran clapped his hands together.  “That’s it for today, everyone. Well done! And a big round of applause for our volunteer.”

Keith paused, halfway into his sweats, as the class clapped distractedly.  Most of them, Shiro included, and been halfway to packing up. Keith gave a little wave as he pulled on his hoodie, looking suddenly uncomfortable with all the eyes on him.  Then, as the class finished packing up, he turned to speak to Coran.

At that moment, Shiro could have slipped quickly out the door with the current of students.  Given himself a few days to figure out how to handle this situation. Took a moment to breathe and exorcise the image of Keith undressing from his mind.  (The image of him holding a push-up position, muscles corded and obvious, face flush from exertion wouldn’t ever leave, though.)

But Shiro has never considered himself a coward.  Cautious, occasionally. But not a coward.

So Shiro stepped down the stairs as well, his bag over his shoulder and a smile on his face as he waited for Keith’s attention.

Coran saw him first, brows up.  “Ahh, hello. Did you have a question?”

“No, sir,” Shiro replied.  “I’m just waiting for Keith.”

The sound of Shiro’s voice made Keith start.  He turned, shoulders tense and jaw set. There was open rebellion in his eyes, and nostalgia hit Shiro like a truck.  Last time he’d seen that look in Keith’s eyes, it had been when a pair of jackasses were making smart remarks about the sexuality of other kids in high school.

Had Shiro done something to make Keith look at him like a bully?

Slowly, the fight drained out of Keith.  He looked Shiro over, then tilted his head.  “You still wanted to talk?”

“Honestly, I was wondering if you wanted to catch lunch.  In half an hour, maybe, if you need to change.” Shiro kept his smile plastered on, and wondered if he’d crossed a line in this conversation.  Was he supposed to have kept his head down, now that he knew Keith wasn’t wearing underwear under those sweats?

Oh, bad thought.

The light came back to Keith’s eyes, and a full, real smile bloomed over his face.  “Oh, yeah. That’d be good. I have a change of clothes here, actually. Give me five?”

“Sure.”

Keith nodded again, still smiling.  “Okay. Cool. I’ll be right back.” He snagged his bag up and set off down the hall at a jog, probably making a beeline for the bathrooms.

Coran eyed Shiro, back to stroking that mustache.  He looked him over thoughtfully. “So you know Keith, then?”

Shiro nods.  Really, he should have left it there, for both their privacies, but something about Coran’s sharp gaze left him wanting to defend himself.  “We were close in high school, but fell out of touch. I didn’t know he was going here until I spotted him before class.”

Finally, a grin peeked out from between Coran’s fingers.  “Ah. Yes, that would be quite a startling way to meet someone again.  That does make sense.” At Shiro’s confused look, he chuckled. “You looked stunned when we began.  I try to keep an eye on reactions on the first day. I’ve had students who had strong objections to certain sexes or body types over others.”

Oh!  Shiro’s cheeks flamed, mortified at the thought.  He hadn’t thought about how his reaction could have been misinterpreted by anyone other than Keith.  Of course Coran has dealt with problems before in a class like this, and Shiro’s stomach sinks at being confused for someone like that.

“No!  I was just startled.  I didn’t realize he wasn’t here as a student until he was out of his clothes.”  Shiro covered his eyes, fighting the blush back down. “Sorry to worry you.”

Coran chuckled, eyes warming significantly.  “Well, I’m very relieved to be wrong. What’s your name, lad?”

“Shiro.  Uh, Takashi Shirogane on your records.  But I go by Shiro.” He offered his hand, which Coran took with a surprisingly strong grip.  His gaze darted down to the prosthesis, but came back up to Shiro’s eyes after only a second.

Pulling his arm back, Shiro slid the fake hand into his pants pocket.  “I know you went over this on Tuesday, but the projects are based off our own progress, right?”

Coran nodded slowly.  “Yes. You won’t be compared to any of the other students.  I do have a rubric for each assignment, but those are just to check for completion.”

“Good.  Thank you.”  Shiro’s shoulders relaxed just a touch.  He’d known that was true, but it was always better to hear it.

Footsteps caught Shiro’s attention.  He looked over to see Keith standing in the doorway.  His bag was over his shoulder again, and now he was in a t-shirt and jeans.

Probably wearing underwear again, then.

…Damn his brain.

“Ready?” Shiro asked, keeping his tone steady.

Keith smiled back.  “Yeah, I’m ready. I’ll see you later, Coran.”

“Enjoy your lunch, boys.”  Coran gave them a cheery wave, then settled down at this desk with his laptop.

Trotting over, Shiro offered a smile.  “Where do you want to go? My treat.”

Keith started down the hallway as his nose crinkled.  “I think I still owe you a dozen lunches from high school, actually.  No way.”

“Then what’s one more?” Shiro’s grin widened as his chest warmed.  Keith remembered all those lunches, down to the number that he ‘owed’.  Not that Shiro had ever planned on collecting. His own allowance had been more than enough for whatever he wanted, plus lunch for Keith.  “Then one more on top of that, so we don’t end up on thirteen.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith shook his head.  “Oh, say it. I know you want to.”

The sheer familiarity of it made Shiro feel like he wanted to walk on air.  “Chosen for the lucky number, you mean?”

Keith glanced up at him from the corner of his eyes, openly fond.  “You filled out but you’re still the same dork.”

“You filled out but you didn’t get taller.”

Elbowing Shiro, Keith tried to scowl, but it came across as more of a pout.  

Shiro smacked away the blow.  Then he started to jog down the hall, laughing as Keith had to full on run to keep up.

Two hours together and it was already like old times.

***

“A frat?”  Keith paused his fries halfway to his mouth, nose crinkled.  “Huh.”

Shiro smiled back around a mouthful of soda.  “Mhmm. Zeta Theta Psi.” When Keith continued to stare, he just shrugged.  “What?”

Keith frowned, but finally took a bite of his fries.  “I just didn’t peg you as the type for, like, keggers and frat parties and hazing.  Or whatever.”

“Screw you, I can do a mean keg stand.”  But Shiro smiled, used to this line of questioning.  Most people didn’t guess he was in a frat. “Yeah, I wasn’t thinking about it at first either.  But I ended up wandering around during one of those freshman orientation things - free stuff, you know?  It’s worth it just to hear them talk about their club. And when they explained the benefits, I listened.  There’s more to it than getting drunk and going to mixers. I like the community aspect, and it really does help with networking.”

Taking a big sip of his milkshake, Keith slowly shook his head.  “I don’t know how you made joining a frat sound like a sensible life choice.”

“Because it is!  Frats are part of the university system for a reason, you know.”  Shiro jabbed at Keith with a french fry. “It’s not all college movie stereotypes.  I’ve only been to one toga party, and that was ironically.”

“Oh, in that case, I take it all back.”  Keith rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “I’m glad you like it, at least.  Even if I can’t really wrap my head around it. I remember you as a beanpole of a nerd with a punk streak.”

That was fair.  And, really, Shiro still felt like that, most days.  “I look better when I’m not trying to pull off the earrings and all black.”

“I dunno, I thought it was pretty cool.”  Keith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “We both thought we were such badasses.  Sneaking out to the park to go look at the stars, like total rebels.”

Shiro leaned back in his chair, grinning at the memory.  “We were so pleased with ourselves for managing to get out.”  A thought hit, and he arched his brows at Keith. “You used to sneak cigarettes then, too.  You still smoke?” At the time, it had been a breathless rebellion against constant, suffocating rules of school and home.  Now, it had been two dumbass kids setting themselves up for later addiction and health risks.

Ugh, when had he become such a stick in the mud?

“Nah,” Keith replied.  “I quit when I got to college. Got too expensive, and I figured I should kick it while I could.”

“Good,” Shiro said, deeply vehement.  He bit into his burger again. “You’re better off without it.”

Keith looked Shiro over again, still openly amused.  “Yeah, still having trouble seeing the frat thing. Unless you’re the dad of the group.”

Ugh.  No thanks.  Shiro shook his head.  “I hope not. I mean, I try to keep an eye on people, but that’s not being a dad.  It’s being a good person. I don’t mind DDing when I have to or making sure everyone doesn’t die in their own vomit.  Maybe annoyed big brother, if you have to put it like that.”

“Fair enough.”  Keith shrugged and polished off the rest of his milkshake.  He looked around the room idly, taking in the silly, 50s style decorations.  “This place is pretty good.”

“Yeah, it’s probably my favorite this close to campus.”  The little diner was more than a bit kitschy, but the food was good and the prices were fair.  It was usually pretty packed, being the only non-fast-food place this close to campus, and today was no exception.  “You transfer here recently? I don’t believe you made it three years at Altea without going here.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Keith nodded, focusing on Shiro again.  “Beginning of last semester. So, I’ve been here five months.”

That was still a long time to miss this place, but Shiro could let it slide.  Transferring in during his junior year had to be tough. There were plenty of friend groups already formed, and the people who were as new were almost all freshman.  Shiro was friendly with the newest members of the frat, but he knew damn well how dumb as awkward freshman could be.

“What made you transfer in?”

Keith shrugged.  “Always planned on it.  I started at Marmora community college, actually.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get a two year trade program, or transfers to a four year later.  But I figured if I was going to get the stupid Gen Eds, I’d do it at a community college that was just as good, but a fifth of the cost.”

“Smart,” Shiro muttered, bitting down on the straw of his drink.  “So long as they transfer over, no reason not to do it that way. What made you decide not to go to trade school?”

Keith took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  “Um. Actually, it’s ‘cause my mom suggested it.”

What?

Sitting up, Shiro took in Keith’s face.  There was a hint of color to his cheeks, and he wouldn’t quite look at Shiro, but the corner of his lips were curled up.  “Your mom is back?”

“Yeah.  I, uh, I actually ended up finding her, kind of.  But we talked and she wants to back in my life. Which is… I wasn’t sure, at first.  But it’s been good. And she encouraged me to go for a full degree. If it doesn’t work out, I can do a trade job, but I might as well give it a shot and see how it goes, right?”  Keith shrugged one shoulder. “A geology degree isn’t great for a whole lot, so maybe it’ll all be a waste.”

Shiro’s smile widened, and his chest felt full of warm cotton.  “I’m glad to hear that. Yeah, it’s worth giving it a go. And if it doesn’t work now, she’s right you can change your mind and try something else.  Geology, huh?”

Keith shrugged, though it was still amused.  “I took a couple of classes. One of them had some field stuff and it was nice.  It seemed to fit. I liked being out doing field work like that.”

Honestly, Shiro could imagine it.  More easily that he would have expected.  Keith, sweaty out in the sun, covered in a fine layer of dirt, taking samples and running chemical tests - or, whatever it was field geologists did.  He couldn’t say he was an expert.

“That’s great.  I’m really happy for you.  And selfishly, I’m glad you decided to come here.  It’s cool to meet up with you again. I’d kind of thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”  Shiro smiled teasingly, though he couldn’t help the tight knot of pain at the memory.

Keith’s shoulders slumped.  “Yeah. Sorry. I mean- I should have replied.  I never knew what to say, really, and so I’d put it off, and then it would be too awkward later.  I know that’s a shitty excuse. Then I didn’t have a cell phone for a while, and when I got another one, it was with a different company so I didn’t keep the same number.”

Well, that explained why Shiro hadn’t been able to connect with the number anymore.  And It was definitely better than Keith getting into some horrible accident and dying thinking Shiro was annoying and clingy.

“Sounds like it’s been a long four years for you,” Shiro said.  He crumpled up the used napkins and piled them up on his tray. “It’s fine.  Really. You were never under an obligation to keep up with me. You had enough going on with moving, I’m sure.”

Keith’s eyes flickered over Shiro’s, his expression falling.  “You were never an obligation. It was just… easier, when you were around.  I stopped knowing what to say to people without you. I’m sorry, Shiro.”

Nodding slowly, Shiro relaxed.  “Really, it’s fine. I lived. And I’m mostly glad you’re okay.  I worried, a bit.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you.”  Keith’s eyes flickered to the metal hand resting on the table.  “Sounds like you could have used another friend somewhere in there.”

Tensing, Shiro shoved the hand under the table, where no one could see it.  “I lived through that too. Like I said, there was nothing you could have done about it.”

“No, but I could have been someone for you to talk to.”  Keith slumped back in his seat. “I’m guessing it wasn’t easy.”

Shiro swallowed hard.  “No.” His eyes flickered up to Keith, meeting his gaze.  He straightened up in his chair and set his shoulders. “It was cancer.  I’m sure you’re wondering. Bone cancer. It ruined the circulation in my arm slowly over time.  If we’d kept it, it wouldn’t have been functional anyway, and amputation was safer in the long run.”  

Eyes wide, Keith kept his eyes on Shiro’s face, despite what a temptation it must have been to look down toward where the prosthesis would be.  “Oh, Shiro. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.  Really, it was years ago, and I’m in remission.”  Shiro shrugged and gave a thin smile. “Just as well I went for engineering instead of flight school, huh?”

Keith winced.  “Shiro…”

Softening, Shiro shook his head.  “That wasn’t bitter. Honestly. It probably sounded bad, but I’ve gotten used to joking about it.  There was nothing anyone could have done, and it would have been nice to text you, but- really, I probably wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t physically there to watch.  I’d have just kept texting you like normal.”

“Yeah, that does sound like you.”  Keith smiled, though it was wobbly and his eyes were bright with something like pain.  “I’m still sorry you went through that.”

“I’m sorry anyone goes through it.  But thank you.” Shiro shrugged. “Mostly, the prosthesis seems to make people uncomfortable, so I try to keep using it to a minimum.  It’s a pretty cool model, though. You remember Matt Holt?”

Keith’s lips pressed thin, but then the name connected.  “Uh, brown hair, classes, short?”

“He grew,” Shiro said, smiling.  “But yes, him. His younger sister is fascinated by robotics, and Matt is amazing at programming.  The pair of them got interested in prosthetic limb designs, and micro-muscle movement detection. This,” he held up his hand and waved the fingers, “is their handwork.”

Eyes bright, Keith held out his hand.  “Can I see?”

Shiro looked over his face, then obligingly set the metal hand down on top of Keith’s.

There was no sensation, but Shiro still felt warm as Keith’s thin, rough fingers brushed over his right hand.  The fingers twitched, reacting to how Shiro subtly tensed and relaxed as he watched. The tiny movements seemed to fascinate Keith, making his eyes go wide.

“Can you write with this?” Keith asked, soft with awe.  “Or draw, I guess.”

“Yeah, I was using my right hand during class today.”  He curled the fingers like he was holding a pen. “I got alright writing with my left hand, but mostly I just typed or used voice to text at first.  But the better Matt and Pidge have gotten, the better I’ve been able to use it. Pidge is thrilled I’m in an drawing class. She wants to use it as a test run.  I think I’m going to be her doctorate thesis someday.”

Keith snorted.  “This deserves to get someone a doctorate.  It’s pretty cool.” He ran the tip of his finger down Shiro’s pointer, then paused and looked up.  “Oh, shit, this is weird, isn’t it?”

No.  It was the opposite of weird.  Shiro didn’t want him to stop.

How pathetic was that?  It had been five years, and Shiro was still mooning over Keith holding his hand.  Not even his real one, at that.

“It’s fine,” Shiro replied, totally steady.  “It’s cool, right? You should meet Pidge. She’d love to hear you say that.  And Matt would probably get a kick out of seeing you. I bet he still remembers you.”

There was a flash of something complex behind Keith’s eyes, a tightening that Shiro didn’t know how to explain.  “I’m glad they were there for you. After.”

Ah.  Still beating himself up.  Shiro used the right hand to jab Keith in the forehead.  “I’m glad they’ve been so interested in helping too. But I was fine.  I am fine.”

“Yeah.”  Keith dropped his hand onto his table, tapping his fingers against plastic surface.  There was still that dark, frustrated look in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, so Shiro didn’t either.  “So, uh, I have class in a bit, and I still need to run to my place and grab my books.”

Oh, right.  Shiro pulled out his phone and winced.  He was going to be cutting it close for Calc III.  “Yeah, shit. I need to go too. Um, well, are you going to be around next week?”

Keith shook his head, lips thin.  “No. I trade off. I’ll be there the week after.  Here, give me your phone, alright?”

Blinking at the abrupt topic change, Shiro handed it over, already unlocked.  A few seconds later, he took it back, now with a new contact.

“That works.  We can grab lunch again soon, maybe?”  Shiro’s heart thudded in his chest, hopeful despite himself.

Smiling, Keith nodded.  “Yeah. I definitely owe you one.  And I promise to actually reply to texts this time.”

Shiro smiled, something loosening in his chest.  “I’ll hold you to that. Now I know where to find you.”

“Exactly.”  Keith stood, his bag over one shoulder and holding his tray.  “Maybe something this weekend?”

“That’d be nice.”  Shiro got to his feet as well.  “I’d say you should come to my place so we can catch up in peace, but I live on Greek Row.  I don’t know if you can tolerate that.”

Keith rolled his eyes.  “I don’t object to- ah, hell, yeah I do.  But I’ll live. You’re right, we should talk.”  He looked down at his own phone and cursed. “I really need to go, sorry.  Text me!” With that, he waved and set off at a run.

Shiro watched until he was totally gone.  Then he held the phone to his chest and slumped back down into his seat.  It was pathetic and someone might see him swooning, but he couldn’t help it.

The one that got away.  His best friend from five years ago, back in his life, and even more gorgeous than before.

He didn’t know if he was extremely lucky or extremely unlucky.  But he was excited to figure it out.


End file.
